


Time of Trial

by animefreak



Category: Mortal Kombat Conquest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animefreak/pseuds/animefreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Rayden's return to correct the timeline where he failed, a new adversary arises to change his life ... forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time of Trial

Time: After The Mines  
Place: MKC universe, between point a and point b  
Spoilers: See The Mines

Time of Trial

Rayden couldn't recall having been blindsided before. The attack came suddenly. He was raising back up off the ground almost before he realized he had hit it. He came up facing his attacker. His brows rose in surprise.

Kaeisha grinned. Oh, boy. Too many teeth. And sharp. Before Rayden could ask why, she was on him again, pounding him, tearing at him, beating him. He fought back, yet there was this slight touch of panic in the background. He was a god, he was a fighter, but nothing he did seemed to stop this -- female -- thing. He reeled away from the attack, trying to find a lull in the action, to catch his breath, to ---

She was behind him, wrenching his head back and sinking her teeth into his neck. He screamed. The pain was -- was -- His eyes rolled back in his head for a few moments as he felt his very essence being drained out of him.

Release. He fell forward onto the ground. He felt weak, drained, nearly dead. From some inner reservoir he found the strength to turn onto his back and lean up, braced on one elbow. The woman had been striking, as well as formidable. Now she was -- terrifying. Her dark hair lifted on unseen, unfelt currents of power. Her eyes were golden, sparks and streaks lightning playing in their depths. She focused on him, her lips peeled back from her teeth in what he had a horrible feeling was a smile. 

"Come." The word had power in it, compelling power.

Rayden staggered to his feet and leaned against a boulder that had escaped destruction during their short fight. "Where? What have you done to me?" There was a frightening emptiness within him. Where he should have found the flooding power of the storm to support him, there was nothing. For the second time in his long life, he was powerless. 

"OutWorld."

"No!" The word ripped from him, memories he had carefully submerged since his emergence from that realm threatening to drown him in the misery and pain of his time there.

The eyes blinked, really looked at him and she frowned. She touched him lightly, sharing those memories for a moment. She nodded. "Stay here."

She turned and gestured, a whirling vortex opened before her. He could feel the pull of the gate between this world and OutWorld. 

"Wait!" he called as she strode across the ground toward it. She stopped and looked back. "What -- Why? What will you do there?" 

"Take Shao Kahn."

The enormity of the statement was mind boggling. "Why?" The question was almost a whisper.

"This is not the only realm. Nor is OutWorld. Nor is Shao Kahn the greatest force of destruction. With his power, I will have enough to stop the destruction of all realms."

"All --" Rayden felt his mind go as numb as his body. "All -- " He wanted to ask what she was that she could take power and wield it in the defense of a universe. He wasn't certain he wanted the answer. 

She smiled, more gently, turned and stepped into the vortex. It snapped shut behind her.

Rayden sat down on a rock. Now what was he going to do?

While Rayden pondered his next move, a vortex opened in the throne room of OutWorld. The self proclaimed ruler of the realm was slouched on his throne. He straightened as the gateway opened. He leaped to his feet, pulling a sword as someone of immense power stepped through. He relaxed. A woman. A beautiful woman, long hair bound back by iridescent ribbons, pale skin glowing in the gloom of his throne room; leather and silk combining to create an intriguing costume on her well formed body. Their eyes met and he knew a moment’s trepidation. She smiled. Something about her smile troubled the paranoid ruler of OutWorld.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Your downfall.”

His sword swung as he leaped to the attack. Shock. She batted the blade away as though it had been a wooden practice sword swung by a beginner instead of three and a half feet of sharpened steel with the battle honed muscles and stolen powers of the Emperor of OutWorld behind it. She circled his wrist with one hand, the long tapering fingers encircling and holding. The other hand caught his throat and held him. He clawed at the hand, her arm with his free hand. He slammed his fist into what he could reach of her, each blow enough to fell a normal mortal.

Slowly, savoringly, she drew him to her, twisting the wrist of the hand holding his sword until he dropped it with a cry. Their mouths met. Heat. Need. Desire. All these leaped through the emperor, his dark eyes wide with something akin to fear, then narrowing, closing as her mouth demanded his, took what she sought and left him weak kneed in his need for more. His arms encircled her, all thought of fight leaving him, he sought to take what she offered.

His eyes slammed open in horror as her teeth fastened on his tongue, holding him, draining him, sucking him dry. He could not move. He could only stare into those molten golden eyes and know that Shao Kahn had lost. His powers drained into her, her eyes reflecting the power building within her. She gained substance even as he lost his. He could not bellow his pain, could not curse at the demon devouring his essence, could not even whimper in terror. Idly, a portion of his mind wondered if his knees or his heart would give out first.

Knees.

He wasn’t expecting her to let go. He had developed a fatalistic resignation. And then he was released. Shao Kahn’s imperial butt hit the stone floor of his throne room. The skull mask that had hidden his face for centuries, slid out of place. He reached up to find it was loose against his face. Wonder and horror warred in his eyes as he debated what to do. With a resigned shrug, he removed it. 

Most of OutWorld, and the rest of the realms, assumed that the Emperor was somehow disfigured behind the mask. They were wrong. There was some indication that the man was mad as the proverbial hatter, but the face behind the mask was disarmingly open. His brow was lofty, his eyes smoldering brown set under nearly winging brows, his nose was straight from brow to end with flairing nostrils. His lips were full, as could always be seen, but now they were not curved in their habitual sneer. 

In removing his power, she had somehow turned the clock back to a time when Shao Kahn’s physical presence had not been so terrifying, so fearsome. She looked down at the youthful man at her feet and smiled. He was beautiful. He scooted away from her feet. Given what she had already done to him, he had no intention of letting her touch him again. He nearly scooted out of his pants.

Kaiesha grinned, toothily. She glowed with inner power. She was larger than she had been. She looked at the man again. A gesture and he was clothed in leather armor of gleaming black and gold, a draconic helm surmounting his head. “Come. We have much to do, brother.”  
*************************************************************************

Rayden walked into Zhou Zhin, tired, dirty, hungry and bruised. It wasn’t that he couldn’t walk, it was just that there was a difference between the tireless stride of a god, and the time consuming travel of a – mortal. He cringed inwardly at that word. What was Kung Lao going to say? No, it wasn’t Kung Lao who would have much to say. Siro. Taja. And right now, he couldn’t say he’d blame them.

He brushed his hair out of his face. It fell back in. He made a face and yanked a length of cloth off the edge of his less than immaculate tunic to tie it back. How did Siro manage? Well, better to get there now, when he still had some strength, than later. He walked to Reyland Imports and stopped outside the door. He knocked. He wondered who would open the -- “Taja.” he said with a smile, swayed and basically fell into the astonished thief’s arms. He tried to apologize, tried to right himself and passed out.

“Taja – who -- is ------ it -------“ Siro stared at the dusty, disheveled blue and white clad body in Taja’s arms. 

He was still staring when Kung Lao came down the stairs. Kung Lao took in the scene, recognized that there was something gravely wrong here and moved to help. Siro shook himself out of his bemused daze and lent a hand to get Rayden to bed. He met Kung Lao’s look across the bed as he helped pull the covers over the unconscious god. This did not bode well. 

Rayden awoke to darkness. At first he wasn’t certain he’d awakened. He blinked. He reached for his power and found it gone. He sat up with a jerk. Fear. He had felt it before, the overwhelming, irrational fear that held him while Shao Kahn had beaten him, taken – No. He had faced that once, he would not face it again. Not here. Not now. 

Where the hell was here? He had to think for a moment. Of course, the Trading Post. He relaxed slightly. He itched. In several places. He wondered if Kung Lao would oblige his need for a hot bath. He sighed. The door to the room crept open and a wide eyed red head looked in over the candle she was carrying. Rayden gave her a smile. It didn’t erase the worry in her blue eyes, but it received an answering curve of her lips.

“Hi. You had us worried.”

“I have me worried.”

“Huh?”

Rayden sighed. Much as he would love to leave it at that typically cryptic statement, he couldn’t. “I’ve had my powers stolen,” he told her.

Taja’s lower jaw headed toward the floor. “You what?”

Rayden gave her a resigned look, then laughed softly. Taja looked like she was worried he’d lost his mind. Just what they needed, another crazy god. He understood the look. “It’s all right.” He frowned. “No, that’s not true. I am – mortal. I suspect it’s permanent and I think it would be best to explain it once.” His stomach growled, loudly.

Taja chuckled at the look he gave his middle. “Then come down. I’m just finishing up supper for us. You can join us.”

“Thank you.”

He swung out of bed and swore as his feet touched the ground His feet hurt. Gingerly, he peeled off his right boot. The bottom of the boot looked worn. The bottoms of his feet were black and blue with bruising. Maybe the direct route hadn’t been the best idea. Taja took one look and her intake of breath told its own story. She set the candle down and whirled out of the room before he could stop her.

Moments later, Kung Lao and Siro followed Taja into the room. Rayden had eased back onto the bed and sat swinging his feet and trying not to recognize the potential for real pain if they hit anything. Kung Lao knelt beside the bed and eased off the other boot. Bruising, raw open blisters, Rayden wasn’t going anywhere on those feet for a while.

“What happened?” Kung Lao finally asked as he and Taja carefully tended Rayden’s wounds. 

“I lost a fight.”

“You were kicking someone?” Siro inserted. He ignored Kung Lao’s frown.

“No. I was – taking a breath of air and – I got blindsided.”

“By what?” Taja chimed in.

“A – I’m not sure. She was beautiful and dangerous and deadly and she -- she stole – she took – “ Rayden stopped talking to try to still the tide of shudders that had started shaking him. He had thought Shao Kahn had taken from him all that could be taken, yet this was so much worse. Shao Kahn had beaten him, raped him, taken his dignity, shaken his self confidence, nearly broken him physically and mentally. Yet – there had been that core of knowledge that as an immortal he could survive unless Shao Kahn deliberately killed him. Now – now he didn’t even have that to fall back on. 

Kung Lao, swiftly interpreting the signs of an incipient plunge into despair and terror, took the bereft god in his arms and held him while Taja finished applying ointment to his feet. Rayden’s eyes were black pits. He swallowed convulsively and shook. Delayed shock. Kung Lao fell into a rocking rhythm, whispering comfort into the ear of the stiff, trembling form he held. Something must have gotten through. Rayden relaxed, leaning into Kung Lao’s hold, hiding his face against the young man’s broad shoulder. He reached for Kung Lao and held on until the terror passed. 

Siro thought he had seen everything -- well, almost everything. He had been dead and brought back to life. HHHe had seen his world torn asunder to bring him new friends and ways of thinking. He had seen the universe and its interconnections from someplace he had not yet been able to return. He had even managed to quell some of his own hot headed tendencies. But this – 

Rayden had not been unscathed when he returned from OutWorld. Yet, clothed in his powers, he had seemed as gods always do to mortals, invincible. Now -- Siro wasn't quite certain what had happened or what would happen, yet a part of him knew that even after Rayden had learned to live as a *part* of EarthRealm instead of its protector, Siro would be there. 

An unfamiliar calm settled in where Siro had so often felt turmoil. Once he had thought protecting Jen was his life's work. Then he had believed training for the next Mortal Kombat and helping Kung Lao were what he had been born to do. This time, he had no words for the certainty he felt, for the rightness of it was all pervading. There was no need for words, only actions. Quietly, he drew Taja away to help him bring food and drink to the man who was joining them.

******************  
Kaeisha and Shao Kahn stepped into the void. Shao Kahn shied slightly. They were standing on -- nothing. Below them was a seething, whirling maelstrom of light and plasma. Opposite them was a -- shadow? A shaft of -- lack of light? Something. Shao Kahn looked at the woman. She glowed in the darkness. She looked -- calm.

"What is it?"

"The Cauldron of Creation. Where all life begins."

"And that?" he gestured with one golden gauntleted hand.

"The dark side."

Shao Kahn considered this. "Then why am I *here*?"

She turned her face to him. She knew what he meant. She smiled. "What is dark without light?"

What? He considered this. "Total -- darkness."

"What is the point?"

"To -- win?" Shao Kahn felt he was missing something here. He considered his past, OutWorld. If the realms outside ceased to exist -- Hmm. Not good. 

 

Kaeisha held out a hand to him. "Shall we begin, little brother."

He stepped forward, still standing on nothing, which was somewhat disorienting. Behind him, Kaeisha burst into light, a shaft of colors in the darkness. The shadow on the other side became darker, a portion detached and moved forward, forming a vaguely humanoid form wielding a shaft of darkness. He was uncertain about this fight. Then he felt power as he had never known flow through him. The fight began. He became a weapon for light. He roared with laughter at the thought. 

The battle was long. Stars were born, lived and died. The cauldron seethed beneath them, spawning monsters and heroes, gods and demons, life and death. Just when Shao Kahn thought he could not lift his blade again, the other wavered, shimmered and dissolved. The shadow on the other side retreated, away from the rim of the spinning realm of creation below them. Power flowed through him, then outward, breaking into gold and silver and multicolored streak and then bits and pieces that fled across time and space, throughout the realms. He turned to Kaeisha. She was smaller, the shaft of colored light gone. She reached a hand to him.

"Swiftly. We must go," she said breathlessly, the voice of a young woman, no longer the receptacle of all power. He took her hand, the gateway roiled into existence, sucking the two of them away from the void and into -- OutWorld. For a moment, they stood on a pinnacle, gazing down at Shao Kahn's realm. It seemed colder, darker than he remembered. 

"What? --"

"Time has passed. Without your hand, the Realm is less than it was, life is fleeing even as we speak. I return that which was taken."

His hand burned, power welled up within him. He bellowed, in pain, in joy, in terror, in understanding. All that Shao Kahn had been, all that he was, all that he would be -- all of this flooded through the massive being that was Shao Kahn. A lesser entity would have gone mad -- madder? Might have died. But Shao Kahn stood his ground. For good or evil, this was who and what he was. This was *his* realm. And it was *his* choice where that realm would go.

He looked to the woman and blinked in surprise. A child, just on the verge of womanhood, open faced and innocent, stood where the usurper of his power had been. Silk in muted shades of the rainbow and darkness swirled about her slender form. Her hair was a gold glinting halo about her face. She smiled at him, inclined her head and was gone.

Shao Kahn bellowed again. He was home.  
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>  
A hundred years had passed since Rayden arrived on the doorstep of Ryland Imports. 

Kung Lao looked at the gathering and shook his head. He had changed not at all in the years since the last Mortal Kombat. He looked to where Rayden sat at the head of the table set in his honor. He smiled warmly. Rayden looked very much the proud patriarch -- as he should. Half the children here were his descendents by three successive wives. The rest were Siro's and the children of the school that they had founded. He wondered what Siro, his wife and Taja would make of this gathering, almost a small town. Sometimes the pride and joy in his heart were almost too much to keep inside. He met Rayden's eyes and smiled again. He walked in to join the party.

Rayden looked at his protégée, as youthful looking today as ever. His eyes ranged over the rest of the gathering. Siro's children and their children and their children. Three generations of his descendents who bore great resemblance to the hero and his lovely oriental wife. And there was always one of them always standing guard on Rayden. It amused him these days. Shao Kahn's attacks had ended with Rayden's godhood. 

His own descendents were an intriguing mix of looks, oriental and not. He still stared at them with wonder. Three women had granted him their companionship over the years. All three had given him gifts of love in the children they created together. It was amazing.

He caught sight of one of the copper haired Taja-Lings. Sadness. One of his biggest regrets was Taja's loss within the first year of his mortality. The earthquake had surprised the city. Taja, caught outside, had given her life to save that of a child in the way of a falling wall. The child and the kittens she had been moving to safety had survived, shielded by the thief's body. Orphaned by the quake, Li Ling had come to live with Rayden, Siro and Kung Lao; as had the cats.  
When grown, Li Ling had informed them that she wished to change her name to Taja-Ling Li, to give her name the more common local form and to honor the woman who had died protecting her. She had also informed Siro that if he did not marry her, she would not marry. Ever. 

Siro had given her an odd look, smiled warmly and accepted her proposal. They had been together for the rest of his life. Neither of them had an explanation for why all six of their children had been born with coppery red hair and eyes that fluctuated in color between hazel, green and blue. 

Rayden wiped a suspicious wetness from his eyes as Kung Lao joined him.

"Hell of a party."

"Yes, it is," Rayden agreed with a laugh. "100 years of peace and quiet. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever know what happened."

"I think I'll be happy if I never hear from OutWorld again." He thought for a moment. "Then again, immortality could get lengthy if the Kombat is never called again."

"Yes, it could."

The party continued for two days before it wound down and most of the guests went home. Dalao, Kung Lao’s youngest Master teacher, set out the "Open for Classes" sign and the students returned to work. Taja-Ling Kai brought Rayden breakfast, straightened his room and went out again. She was certain the old man was not much longer with them, his face was skeletal, his walk slow and aided by a cane. Soon, there would be no Grandfather, and that saddened her. She loved his tales of the old days, of the Realms and of the fights with strange beings from those other Realms. Life was so quiet.

Kung Lao came down to begin classes with his chosen fighters, the best of the best out of the school. He wasn't certain that there was any real need, yet there was a special pride in knowing that these students were as good as they came. Halfway through the opening exercises, he heard Rayden scream. The students knew he was fast, but teleportation had not originally been on the curriculum. Kung Lao was through the door of Rayden's room almost as fast as thought, and without knocking. He stopped inside. Rayden was standing in the middle of the room. 

"Rayden?"

Slowly, the frail, stooped figure straightened. Kung Lao could see the shudder run through him, yet he seemed somehow more solid. His robes, pale gray by preference, seemed to shimmer and change. White and blue. The thin white hair thickened, darkened. He let the cane fall. Slowly he turned to face Kung Lao, his face a study in stunned disbelief. The lines of a hundred years were gone. His hands were strong and smooth again. Plasma played in the depths of his dark eyes.

"It's -- back," he said simply, his voice sounding as stunned as he looked. "I don't know," he answered the questions in Kung Lao's eyes. "I don't know. I -- Kung Lao, I have to go. I'll be back." He stepped forward and gripped Kung Lao's shoulder for a moment, then vanished in a twinkle of light.

Taja-Ling Kai charged into the room, having made her way through the crowd of students outside. She looked around. "Kung Lao? Where is Grandfather?" 

"Gone. He's -- back."

Kai made a face. "*That* made a lot of sense. He can't be -- both." What she saw in Kung Lao's face made her stop. "Back. Back? As in: BACK??"

"Yeah," Kung Lao agreed with a laugh as what he was attempting to convey sank in fully.

"Oh, wow," she said in the inimitable succintness of youth. "Gran's *never* gonna believe this! The store!" She pelted out and down the stairs to the part of the old structure that housed the shop once started by Taja.

Kung Lao looked at the curious faces ringing the door as he walked out of the room. He could see the same question in all of them. He just smiled, shook his head and shooed them back downstairs. Eventually, Rayden would show up again. He hoped.  
*************************************************************************  
Lord Rayden, God of Thunder, Protector of EarthRealm, protector of the champions of Mortal Kombat, entered the realm of the elder gods with some trepidation. He was surprised by the greetings of his brother and sister gods. Yes, they knew what had happened, but not why. They had not expected to see him again and were overjoyed at his return to their councils. They had no answers for him. They could not intervene when it happened, they could not tell him who or why, only that apparently it was over.

In a quiet moment, he found himself with a couple of child-gods who regarded him with peculiar fey looks in their eyes. They approached him solemnly and both inclined their heads in honor to him. He regarded them for a moment, uncertain as to who and what they were.

"We are the protectors of the fading," they told him, their soft voices in unison, harmonics playing around their words.

"The fading?"

"Magic. The non-dominant races of the realms, the livers in secret places, the ones who will be known only in children's tales. These are ours." They looked at each other out of fawn colored eyes and back at him. "Come. You walk two paths. Perhaps it is you who need to see."

Each took one of his hands and led him away from the gathering. They moved through the realm until they came to a dark place. He could feel power. He could sense -- maybe he didn't want to sense this. He tried to release his hands from the two. They held fast.

"Do *not* fear. We will not see you harmed. But this must be known to the one who has been god and man." Their voices wove spells about him. He continued forward, his heart thumping in trepedation. He did not want to admit he was afraid. 

A door opened, soft golden light showing through. At their silent urging, he stepped forward. He was enveloped in -- in -- love? tenderness? He felt as thought his heart would break in sorrow and fly in joy. What *was* this place?

A child, female, younger than the gods who had brought him here, stepped forward out of the light. She smiled at him, all gentleness in that smile. "Greetings, Rayden."

He bowed to her. "My Lady."

She laughed, a child's happy trill. "Hardly that, Thunder God, father of heroes."

He looked into her golden eyes, startled at her words. Yet he saw the truth there. Father of heroes. "Kung Lao?"

"Has his place. Hero. Teacher. Lover. Father. Guider. He wears as many faces as his mentor does. You have done well, child of the Younger Gods."

Younger Gods???? Younger???? He saw the truth in her eyes. His kind were the elder gods of the realms they knew now, but there were older entities who oversaw even the gods of the realms. He felt humble and exalted at the same time.

She chuckled again. "You do well, Rayden. We will meet again."

The light receded. Rayden found himself in the dark again. The twin gods led him back to the gathering. They left him in a quiet space. Somehow, they surmised he might need some quiet to digest all of this. They were right.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Kung Lao wandered down to breakfast to find Rayden there before him. It was going to take some time to get used to him coming and going like a god, again. Rayden looked up and smiled. Then again, maybe not.


End file.
